irregular time; and if any are at rest, set agoing those which beat
accurately. What wonder then that the living, soldiers, artisans, such
as smiths, paviors, etc., who work in unison with the pulse, should
acquire habits of keeping time with the greatest correctness.

Rhythm not only measures the footfall of the pedestrian, but exerts a
sympathetic power, so that if two are walking together, they feel its
spell, and unconsciously fall into the same step, not aware that they
are thus conforming to a Unity always engendered by the Order regulating
rhythmical motion. It is this entrancing sense of unity which wings the
feet of the dancers, and enables them to endure with delight a degree of
physical exertion which, without it, would be utterly exhausting. The
following extract from the _Atlantic Monthly_, of July, 1858, is so much
to our purpose, that we place it before the reader:

'The sailor does not lack for singing. He sings at certain parts of
his work;--indeed, he must sing, if he would work. On vessels of
war, the drum and fife or boatswain's whistle furnish the necessary
movement-regulator. There, where the strength of one or two hundred
men can be applied to one and the same effort, the labor is not
intermittent, but continuous. The men form on either side of the
rope to be hauled, and walk away with it like firemen marching with
their engine. When the headmost pair bring up at the stern or bow,
they part, and the two streams flow back to the starting point,
outside the following files. Thus in this perpetual
'follow-my-leader' way the work is done, with more precision and
steadiness than in the merchant service. Merchantmen are invariably
manned with the least possible number, and often go to sea
short-handed, even according to the parsimonious calculations of
their owners. The only way the heavier work can be done at all is